


The World Knows

by suyari



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, Married with Kids and Saving the World, Stucky - Freeform, marriage fic, married with kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-24 04:24:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4905361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suyari/pseuds/suyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The marriage of Captain Steven Rogers to Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes had all the markers for the story of the millennia. So when US Weekly ran a cover with a photograph of Captain Rogers cradling a small child while walking down a Brooklyn street the response was immediate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Journal Too

**Author's Note:**

> [As usual] I saw [this](http://sargeantstuckbutts.tumblr.com/post/118623732984/there-can-never-be-too-much-papasteve-kidbucky) and couldn't help myself. Admittedly, this wasn't what I first envisioned when I saw the piece. I have the distinct feeling that this might end up a series, because I have **_WAY_** too many details worked out for something that's under a thousand words. And a serious weakness for Stucky and kids.

The marriage of Captain Steven Rogers to Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes had all the markers for the story of the millennia. Childhood best friends turned war heroes, both lost for seventy years - thought dead, in truth one missing in action, the other a prisoner of war. Reunited, rehabilitated and reinstated, no one quite expected the pair to take their newly instigated rights and make an unintentional stand at the same time, sending shockwaves through multiple communities. 

The wedding itself was a quiet, private affair, with absolutely no security leaks and exactly two photographs released. They did a single tour of the media circuit upon returning from their honeymoon, whereupon it was impossible to pick up, turn on or pass by anything without coming across their likenesses before simply leaving it to drop. The paparazzi and the public quickly learned that it was wholly impossible to take a pair of super soldiers by surprise and by the time a small army of mutagenic monkeys flew into Chicago armed with radioactive water pistols, people forgot all about it. 

So when US Weekly ran a cover with a photograph of Captain Rogers cradling a small child while walking down a Brooklyn street the response was immediate. The byline read: Cap and Sgt in the nesting phase? Issues flew off the shelves and digital copies became the highest sellers since the wedding release. Interiors consisted of a two page spread with several pictures of Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes and two children. One a boy, which Captain Rogers carried with apparent ease and familiarity, and the other a girl with perky pigtails, whose hand was perfectly at home in Sergeant Barnes’. Neither Rogers nor Barnes appeared to be attempting to conceal their identities or the identities of the children. And several photographs along with eyewitness accounts and an anonymous source confirmed the group as enjoying a day out together. 

Stars was quick to jump on the bandwagon, releasing a series of photographs the following week of the married couple and the children at a Farmer’s Market. While inTouch ran a feature speculating on the children’s biological mother. OK! produced an exclusive with an informant that verified the children were in fact Barnes’. And People were quick to verify that both Rogers and Barnes were in fact bisexual. 

Things came to a head when Out’s October Issue released with the Rogers-Barnes household on the cover and the sub-header: How to Trick-or-Treat when your Fathers Save the World. The featured exclusive had an interview with the children, who, as it turned out were Sergeant Barnes’ Great-Nephew and Niece. 

_“There comes a moment where you ask yourself,” says Rogers. “Who am I doing this for? It’s a lot of sacrifice you know? It’s lonely. And you keep picking yourself up and you keep on moving because you’re a soldier and that’s what you do. But, even soldiers need a reason to get up in the morning.”_

_“Even heroes,” adds Barnes, threading their fingers together. “Especially heroes.”_

_Rogers shrugs. “So yeah, we wanted kids. Who doesn’t want kids? Kids are amazing.”_

_“To be fair,” interrupts Barnes. “There are plenty of people who don’t want kids. And we’re not saying there’s anything wrong with that.”_

_“No, no,” Rogers rushes to agree. “Crap. No, not what I meant at all! Just…” He runs his hand through his hair. Barnes adds a second run through; they smile at one another. “We’re from a different time,” Rogers explains. “For everyone else, it was decades ago, but for us - especially for me - it wasn’t that long ago. And kids, I love kids. I’d have a dozen if I could.”_

_“He would,” Barnes sighs._

_“Why don’t you?” I ask._

_“If you haven’t noticed, we don’t exactly have the safest jobs,” Rogers points out. “We only have the twins because they’re family. They didn’t have anywhere else to go and you take care of family.”_

_More lessons we’ve forgotten, I’m sure._

_“That’s not to say we aren’t damn happy to have them,” Barnes adds. “But, it’s not going to be easy on them, growing up with us for parents.”_

_“I can think of a lot of kids who’d want you for parents,” I point out, thinking of a fourteen year old me who would have leapt at the chance for the safety, security and affection these two clearly provide._

_To their credit, they both seem to blush. I hope they both forgive me for putting that out there - whether or not it’s strictly true. Who even knows with super soldiers. They quietly thank me for my opinion and the subject’s changed as the twins get bored of the diy corner. Apparently, “Uncle Tony’s is better.”_


	2. And our ranks will grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the time they sign all the papers and shut the door, their heads are spinning despite their advanced healing and they’re a family of four in a one bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't even make it a full day. I am _so_ weak. 
> 
> I figured instead of a series, I'd post them as chapters as they come. So there's no definitive number at this point. I'll just be posting them as I write them. 
> 
> **Please note:** Canonically Bucky's Great Nephew and Niece are named Scott and Kimberly. But, I felt that in the MCU given all the alterations made to canon, it was likelier the boy would be named after Bucky at the very least. And once I changed his name, I changed hers to suit. 
> 
> Canonically they're not twins either. He's older by at least two years, but in for a penny...
> 
> If it makes you feel better to think of them as OCs, go right ahead.

They meet them for the first time at the wedding. Neither of them have much left by way of family. Steve was an orphaned only child. And Bucky’s only surviving family is his little sister’s get. Richard Proctor and his wife Gail are career military - the family business they like to say. Bucky pointedly does not comment that the family business as they so haplessly call it has done nothing but make orphans of Barnes kids since wars were invented. He’s happy to note Rebecca didn’t marry a service man. Nothing at all wrong with 4F, even if it meant something different back then. She came out of it happy, and it doesn’t seem like her son suffered much for it either. Wasn’t a military brat at any rate which was new for their blood. 

Infertility is something altogether unheard of though. Barnes never had many by way of kids, not like some of the families in the neighborhood he and Steve had grown up with. But, still, no one had ever missed out on having at least one. They’d seen some doctors, had some tests, taken medications and it all makes Bucky’s spine rattle. But the twins are their personal miracle. Late in life babies, or something to that effect. They’re three years old and named after the family heroes. So of course the first thing they do is shove the little boy at him - a kid who eerily and suspiciously looks quite a bit like him - and ask for the picture they never thought they’d be able to have. Steve smiles at him in that encouraging, please humor people way and he sets the kid on his hip and smiles for the ‘James and his Namesake’ picture. They show him the one they took a year earlier with a much smaller James and the memorial of Bucky at the Smithsonian and Steve very politely finds somewhere else for them to be as quickly as possible. 

He enjoys his Honeymoon. It’s hard not to when he can finally kiss Steve under the glow of the sun and the full blue sky and open breeze and have it not be jail worthy. Not that they both couldn’t make it very much not worth someone’s time to try and detain them at this point. But, for some reason, throughout it all he’s plagued by blue eyes and soft brown hair and round little faces that belong to miracle babies. 

“What are you doing?” he asks Steve one night as they relax from an extensive round of love making. 

His husband - and that’s never going to stop being amazing, that Steve is his _husband_ \- has his phone in hand, the Avengers hub lit, and is typing away as if he hadn’t been lost to ice for seventy years and grew up with the technology like everyone else. His wedding ring glints in the light and Bucky winds himself about him, propping his chin to Steve’s shoulder to watch his hands. He’s always loved to watch Steve’s hands. 

“Texting Tony. I want him to look into something for us.” 

“What’s that?” 

Steve reaches up to rub one hand over Bucky’s flesh forearm. “I know it’s bothering you,” he replies. “I figured, if we’re going to enjoy this, it’s better we know once and for all.” 

Bucky snorts softly, wondering if he’s been so transparent or if Steve just knows him as well as he knows Steve and kisses him against the juncture of his neck and shoulder in silent thanks as the phone chimes in response. 

“Tony and Bruce should know in a few hours,” Steve murmurs, turning to initiate a sweet kiss. 

“Do I want to know how they got DNA samples so quickly?” Bucky asks, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Probably best not to ask,” Steve laughs, wrapping his arms about him. 

Bucky takes a moment to wonder if maybe he _has_ been that transparent, that the team would have prepared for something like this on their own, but then Steve’s kissing a path down his neck and he loses focus for a long while. 

The results are in a few hours later, and make him relax. No signs of H.Y.D.R.A. tampering. Just ‘good old fashioned modern medicine to the rescue’. Steve smiles at him in that way he has that never fails to make everything alright again and by the time they’re home and preparing for the media circus, Bucky’s put all thoughts of the kids behind them. 

It’s not exactly a complete surprise when a lawyer, a social worker and a court order make their way to their front door a few months later. The twins are four now with barely a suitcase between them. Their parents are K.I.A. and not only is Bucky next (only, last) of kin, after meeting them the Proctors changed their will. A lot. 

Bucky and Steve meet eyes across the open floor plan of their new brownstone apartment but there’s nothing to discuss; the decision’s already made. By the time they sign all the papers and shut the door, their heads are spinning despite their advanced healing and they’re a family of four in a one bedroom. 

Steve smiles and crouches down to be eye level with them. “Who wants a hot chocolate?” 

Bucky sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. He really wishes he’d sat their parents down and had that discussion about the ‘family business’ now. 

As Steve shepherds the kids into the kitchen - and thank god they both have a chocolate fixation so it isn’t all coffee and shit - Bucky turns on his heel and makes for the bathroom. It’s a good enough place to start de-weaponizing the house. He wonders if it’s too late to call Stark and accept that arsenal biosafe. And just how many ‘I told you so’s it’ll cost to obtain one.


	3. The things we do today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If they’re being honest, Bucky really is better at it. He should be, he’s had lots of practice.

If they’re being honest, Bucky really is better at it. He should be, he’s had lots of practice. Yeah, it’s been a few decades, but as soon as the shock wears off - and with a pair of not quite toddlers it wears off real fast - the muscle memory kicks in and in a way, it’s a part of Bucky Steve was sure was lost forever inexplicably returned. 

Even with the new arm, it doesn’t take Bucky all that long to wrangle Becca’s hair. Steve watches the way the silken strands glide across the shining metal and feels his fingers twitch. He hasn’t felt the need to draw in a long while, but watching Bucky at six in the morning in a pair of running pants with a slight four-year-old nibbling circles around her crustless grilled cheese, head tilted at an angle, while the sun decides to finally make an appearance by streaming in through the windows is honest to god one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever seen in his life. Jamie’s not much of a morning person, but is young enough that he’s still up with the sun and is stretched out beside them, hugging his pillow and half dangling off the couch. He’s a bit like Bucky - kind of like a cat - in the way he always wants to be in your lap whenever you’re doing something _else_ and half asleep, this moment is no less important. His own grilled cheese is cooling on the coffee table, a fact Steve’s by now well aware is vital in getting him to eat it, because Jamie only eats grilled cheese that has reconstituted back into some approximation of cheese but will not, contrary to what some would believe, ever come close to touching an actual cheese sandwich. 

Becca springs up, tutu bouncing and sparkles catching in the light. It’s a bit too perky for Bucky, who topples over, gathering Jamie close and closing his eyes, his own ponytail askew. Jamie makes a contented sound and wiggles closer as Becca skips the short distance to Steve and proceeds to wipe her small hands on his cotton shirt. At first Steve had been concerned when all Becca wanted to wear were tutus and leather jackets. Bucky had said kids were weird and was all for the look - he claimed she had her own sense of style. But Scott and Clint had assured Steve that tutus were one of those things - apparently princess dresses, tiaras, fairy wings, wands and ballet shoes were also likely future additions - little girls just took aggressive attachments to and would want to wear obsessively until they simply decided they were over them one day - when you least expected it. 

Tony was no help whatsoever. Having taken great delight in their situation, he had promptly and efficiently swamped them in necessities. And upon discovering Becca’s unique fashion sense had filled her closet with more sequins and tulle than a prima ballerina and enough leather to bankrupt a small island nation. Steve would have dearly loved to shove it all back at him, if not for the delight in her eyes upon seeing it and the announcement of “Uncle Tony” as her favorite. Bucky, Steve was sure, was all set to argue on his side until Becca came stomping out to lunch in a Captain America themed tutu, boots up to her knees and a leather jacket with a carefully embroidered metallic sheen left sleeve. 

Steve wanted to be mad, he really, really did. But she looked so damned adorable. Beaming up at them, proud as everything, with silver stars in her hair and a Cap shield t-shirt. Bucky’d laughed and swung her up and told her she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen and Steve had been forced to hand over five bucks to Tony. Who had it framed and kept it in his workshop. Never bet against a man in regards to your husband’s reaction to your own children. Even if some men were rotten cheaters. 

“So, what should we do today?” he asks, hugging her close. 

Becca turns in his embrace with a giggle, so she can watch Bucky and her brother too. It’s hard to believe they’ve had them only two months now. The transition was almost too easy, what with all the hero worship their parents had instilled. It had made them a little more trusting than either Steve or Bucky had been comfortable with, but they couldn’t argue the fact that it _had_ made things easier. They’re both still waiting on the other shoe to drop. They’re both orphans and they know the drill. The kids were in foster care for a little while before everything was sorted out and they were brought to them, so there’s that to work through as well. As far as everything they’ve looked into, nothing truly devastating - beyond the obvious - occurred. For which they’re infinitely grateful. But even if their parents’ deaths showed no signs of foul play, they’ll never quite shake the feeling that somehow, some way one of their many enemies was involved in bringing these precious souls into their lives. And if it was intended as a means to hurt them, then they have another thing coming. 

Becca looks up as his grip tightens, little brows coming together. 

He adjusts his grip, so he’s holding her securely and stands, slinging her against one hip and swinging her as he gathers the breakfast dishes and heads for the kitchen. They don’t want them to know that, ever. The waiting, that it exists. That they’re prepared for it. They hope it’s just paranoia, but they know it isn’t. Won’t ever be. Not in their line of work; never for them personally. 

Tony thinks it’s time to stop hiding out in the tower. To take the kids out and start getting seen. Make a little noise, get the gears turning. It’s easier, he says, to let rumor and speculation handle the grunt work. Throw out a few crumbs and let the vultures gather. When they’re ready, pick a source they trust - or at least one whose methods they support - and come clean with the whole thing. Steve isn’t ready. He _knows_ Bucky isn’t. They never will be. The kids have been perfectly content in their gilded cage. And that more than anything, is the reason he dumps the dishes in the sink, rights Becca against him and says, “How about we go for a walk?”


	4. Tomorrow's News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They aren’t new at this. It’s just like any other mission and they pick their targets carefully.

They aren’t new at this. It’s just like any other mission and they pick their targets carefully. They know the paparazzi well by now, know them by reputation and a few from something closer and more indirect. Still, even the best reputation won’t ease the feeling in Bucky’s gut. They may not use a gun, but telescopes are involved and it’s no small matter that these individuals _hunt_ people for a living. Careful planning and all the advantages in the world never stopped a mission going FUBAR. He’s well aware he and Steve can take anyone that comes at them, but every instinct inside of him is screaming at him not to put their vulnerable children at risk any more than they have to. 

It’s true, they’re high profile. But, they can operate below the radar. They’ve done it plenty of times. The fact that they’re out in public, purposely putting themselves on display, in the direct line of multiple scopes is what sticks nine ways of hell in Bucky’s craw. And they’re moving targets, out to attract more scopes. He can feel every one of them land, feel them follow along. He can feel them focus, feel the pull of the trigger. He feels the itch in his fingers to reach into his jacket and pull the SIG he’s tucked away, despite Steve’s protests. Aim and squeeze; the satisfaction of the give of the trigger and the recoil charging up his arm. He could hit every last scope dead center without looking, catch every last one straight in the eye. It’ll be the last job they ever pull. 

His Glock is a warm weight against his body, even as Becca skips along beside him, swinging their arms. It’s an effort to maintain a relaxed posture, even with all his training. Every time her body moves out of the shelter of his he wants to yank her back or take a quick step forward. He knows they’ve made their decision, that they’re _allowing_ this. But it doesn’t make every snap of capture resound any less hollowly in his gut when he fails to protect her from the line of fire. 

For all Steve instigated this, he’s no better. They’d barely made it into range, just catching the first few in periphery when his husband had scooped Jamie up and set him on his hip. The further they walk, the higher their son travels, until Steve’s shielding him with his entire torso. He’s still letting the cameras have their view, but his head’s tucked close as he talks to him, ready to take any bullets that may find their way over and Bucky’s relieved he’s not the only one feeling paranoid. 

It’s nearly a week before they feel ready to do it again. Sam says it’s normal. Something about their combined PTSD and how it’s affected by their celebrity status. He states he isn’t surprised it’s happened, only that it’s taken so long, and he’s kind of relieved. Mentions something about how maybe they should get a dog and he knows a guy, but ends up called away on a mission and they don’t see him for a few days. 

They take the twins to a Farmer’s Market. They’re better prepared. Steve carries the bags, but has a lightweight collapsible shield under his jacket, courtesy of Tony - who unsurprisingly, did not think their paranoia was unsubstantiated. Bucky’s new concealed holster - also courtesy of Tony - keeps four guns and two knives streamlined to his body. He’s even able to wear a nice fitted shirt, though the designer jacket provides a nice distraction. Even though he’s well aware it’s the twins in his arms everyone’s most interested in. He’s wearing Stark glasses this time. As is Steve. Sunglasses, security and backup all rolled into one. At first he’s a little surprised at all the information Stark’s tech is able to pump out, but Tony assures him it’s one hundred percent legally obtained and you wouldn’t believe half the shit people post on social media. He’s well aware he’s using his more than Steve, but then, Steve’s always been more trusting and he wouldn’t change him, even for this. 

He’s a super soldier, if less well put together than Steve, and the kids are light as feathers and a little starved for attention, so they get away with the more preferable option of his carrying them the whole outing. If his right arm had gotten tired at any point and he’d been faced with the inconceivable situation where he wouldn’t have been able to push past it, he knows from past experience he could have carried the twins, all their gear and Steve in his left for about two days on the counterbalance of his own body weight alone before feeling it, so he’s not really all that concerned. Still, when they get home, he works out. Five hundred push ups with a pair of curious four year olds who fall asleep halfway to three hundred fifty on your back isn’t as easy as one might think. 

They go to a park last, thinking it’ll be a good test of paparazzi mettle. They try to go only moderately armed and fail when they realize the wagon can hold Steve’s shield and one of Bucky’s modified rifles. They compromise and leave the rifle. (It’s only later they learn the wagon’s been Stark modified and has basic Iron Man repulsor technology as well as shielding, communications and self defense weaponry along with emergency first aid. They sit Tony down for a long talk about gift giving and instruction manuals. Steve wants to know when Tony gives the kids dangerous equipment. Bucky just wants to know how it _works_.)

They’re weapons free - minus the SIG Bucky refused to leave home, and the Shield in the wagon, because _really_ , no matter what Steve says, it’s a _weapon_ in his hands - and doing their best to remain as relaxed as possible, with the twins running off in front of them. Climbing and jumping and swinging and sliding. It takes Bucky a moment - too lost in his own head to notice right away - to realize, but the scopes have no clear shot. He can feel them. Knows they’re out there. In the bushes, in the trees, in a car parked across the street. 

It’s then that he takes a closer look around them. Sees the almost inconspicuous group. They’re clearly a unit. In twos and threes. Scattered about the playground and the surrounding areas. Steve notices them too. Raises an eyebrow when one walks right up to them and holds out a hand.

“Sir,” she says. 

Steve shakes her hand. 

“I’ve always wanted to salute you in person,” she adds, taking her hand back. She flexes her fingers and puts her hand in her jacket pocket before nodding to Bucky. “You too.” 

Bucky nods at her, eyes slipping sideways as Jamie runs across the swinging bridge and Becca disappears down the slide. 

“Please excuse me for not doing so, but, we know you’re just out trying to enjoy your lives. So, I’m not going to draw more attention to you by outing you like that.” 

“Thank you,” Steve says warmly. 

Bucky can’t help but smile. “We appreciate it,” he adds. 

She nods. “We know what it’s like,” she replies, gesturing around her shortly. “And we’ve been seeing the pictures and well...We’re a neighborhood watch, and this is one of our neighborhoods. It’s something we do, helps us ease back into civilian life. We know what it’s like to feel the scope on our backs and we thought you get enough of that out in the field, there’s no reason you needed it here at home. So...While you’re here, we just wanted you to be able to enjoy yourselves and...they won’t get any pictures, we promise.”

“Thank you,” Steve says again, with that note that says he’d hug her if he knew it’d go over well, and still might be considering it. “That means a lot.”

“Everybody needs some down time,” she counters with a shrug. “Especially heroes.” 

“What’s your name?” Steve asks. 

“I’m just a soldier,” she replies. “Same as anyone.” 

Steve salutes her. 

Bucky tries hard not to laugh as he sees her eyes widen with what just may be a lifelong dream realized - the kind you never really expect to achieve. They water slightly, but she straightens - and because Steve’s already ruined it - salutes back. Bucky salutes in return. She smiles and walks back to her partner who’s sort of gaping and grabs both her shoulders like he can’t believe what he just witnessed. 

They laugh and walk off together. 

“I think you just made her day,” Bucky informs Steve as the twins rush him.

Steve leans down to wrap his arms about them. “Yeah, well she made mine. So, we’re even.”


	5. What stop the presses really means

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In retrospect, starting out with “Uncle Tony” was probably what cinched it.

“I don’t know,” Steve says, crossing his legs at the ankles and rocking them slightly. He’s not entirely comfortable with the idea, and it’s difficult to concentrate now that they’ve gone ahead and allowed for other things to commence.

“Widen your stance,” he can hear Natasha telling the twins. “Like this. It’s okay if it makes you look smaller, looking bigger isn’t important, keeping your balance is.” 

They’ve had the twins for four months now and it’s as permanent as it’s going to get. He’s honestly surprised it took them all this long to start prodding him about it. Isn’t certain why they thought he’d need convincing. Bucky’d started teaching the kids how to fall without hurting themselves as soon as they’d gotten comfortable enough with the transition. “Even if it never takes,” he’d said. “There will still be people who’ll see the value in trying to grab them. At the very least, I want them to be able to get clear.” Steve supposes with their lives it’s inevitable. He wishes it weren’t a necessity, but it isn’t as if they’re _alone_. Scott’s started to bring Cassie around on long weekends, and even if the kids haven’t met yet, and Scott’s identity’s still fairly under wraps, Natasha, Bucky and Clint have started to teach Cassie basic self defense - just in case. Steve saw no reason - especially with super soldiers and professional heroes for parents - the twins shouldn’t join in. For obvious reasons, he and Bucky have left it to Natasha and Clint, who’ve somehow managed to get not only Sam but - Lord help them - _Thor_ to help. Thor is surprisingly incredible with children. And makes an excellent striking post. 

“It’s _perfectly_ safe,” Tony replies. 

Bruce casts him a sidelong look, but refrains from comment, going back to whatever has been keeping his attention on his datapad. 

“Okay, so there’s room for error,” Tony corrects. “But they have super soldiers for parents, come on!” 

Bucky shifts his weight - it’s slight, but it’s a significant enough sign that he’s not entirely comfortable either. His focus remains on the training session, his back to them, even though Steve’s well aware he’s listening and will - if he feels a need - interrupt to voice his opinion. 

“As much as I don’t like saying it,” Steve counters. “That can’t be your first line of defense for every argument.”

“It’s not,” Tony says, with a smile, leaning forward. “It’s my last.” He stands, and throws his arms wide, opening schematics. “Let’s be honest, on your own, you two are like every metaphor for an unstoppable object known to man. When you’re together, and reasonably pissed off, people surrender rather than suffer your wrath.” 

“They do not-” 

Tony interrupts him with actual case files. Swiping them up with a manic sort of glee, and several cropped shots of enemy forces. Which he then proceeds to arrange in level of horror, while adding his own commentary around mission statements. “I’m fairly certain, all my genius aside, the government would be _thrilled_ if they could just figure out a way to royally piss you both off and drop you in a war zone. Sit back and just enjoy the immediate, terrified surrender of their biggest bads.”

Bucky snorts. 

Steve cants his head back, to note Bucky’s turned and is half paying attention to Tony’s attempt at a presentation. 

“The point is,” Tony continues, waving away the mission files and bringing up media feeds. They focus on them and the children. 

Steve’s unaware he and Bucky frown in unison. 

“Everybody knows not to mess with someone’s kid. It’s one of the few instincts we still maintain as a society. And when those kids are _yours_ there’s an entirely different level to it.” He makes a rolling gesture with his hand. And suddenly there are all those boards they’d always been conscious of, but never gave much attention to. 

Bucky’s eyes narrow and he takes three very dangerous steps - because even Steve can’t hear him cross the floor - coming up behind the couch to read the message boards. There is still plenty to be said about their lifestyle and their souls and the usual. It’s - according to everyone they know - vastly more polite than anything anyone else endures. They’ve always taken a sort of unique enjoyment in that fact. Bucky purposely went out of his way to provoke them as sweetly as possible. Steve himself, did absolutely nothing to deter him. They’d known, of course, that going public would expose the children to this sort of thing, if indirectly, but it still hurts in places Steve has no name for. 

“Okay, now before you go on a murder spree,” Tony interjects lightly. “I want to point out, that this…” He waves his hand, forcing the threads to scroll. “Is hate light. I have never, _ever_ seen them be this reserved about it in my entire life. When I pointed it out to Pepper, she said something to me that made me realize the ball’s perpetually in your court.” He waits for them both to look up at him. “As much as you both try, no matter how open and charming and handsome you are...You’re Super Soldiers. Let’s start with that. You are the pinnacle of human existence. And there are only _two_ of you in the entire world.”

“Technically-” Bucky interrupts.

Tony waves his comment away. “That they know of.” He slaps his hands together. “Guys, you’re missing the point. You can stop an entire undercover operation in its tracks at the mere whisper of your names. You can freeze a battalion of elite soldiers armed to their eyeballs with the latest technology just by dropping in. You get married and the entire county shuts down in mass apoplexy. _**Power**_.” He takes a few steps toward them, shaking his hands as if they don’t understand. “People _fear_ you. They fear what you can do. They fear the influence you have. They fear the unknowable. And you two...You heroic bosom buddies from the goddamn forties go and turn the world on its head by being in love! You get married and you have kids, and suddenly the Star Spangled Banner’s a freaking Pride Flag!” Tony throws his arms in the air and turns on his heel. 

Bucky settles on the couch by Steve’s head. 

Tony paces a few feet and whips around. “And if you’re Americana, and this is true, then everything they ever knew is a lie! And what else have they not been looking at closely enough?! What else is _wrong_?! Because, you know what? It’s not _you_! Look at you! You still get up and spangle out and go out there and get shot at by crazy bastards so they can have the right to say that you’re wrong to live the way you want to. And you haven’t said a _word_! You guys scare the shit out of them! Because, imagine. Imagine! Imagine what you could do if you decided you _wanted_ to.”

Steve turns and meets Bucky’s eyes as Tony drops into an armchair, spent. Bruce reaches over to pat his leg and hands him a mug of coffee, which Tony immediate wraps around with his entire body. He takes the datapad Bruce hands him almost lazily and clutches it like a lifeline. He doesn’t meet their eyes again. 

The pattering of little feet announce the twins arrival and they look down as they all but vibrate in excitement. 

“I knocked Uncle Clint down!” Becca shrieks excitedly. 

“She did,” Natasha says, following them in. “Got him good.” 

“Look what I can do!” Jamie cries. He settles low, a little off balance, but with decent form and then jumps, kicking high. 

Steve makes appropriate impressed noises while Bucky gets up and gently corrects his knees. Jamie does it again and Bucky smiles at him and ruffles his hair. Jamie beams. 

“So…” Steve hedges, looking to Tony. 

Tony’s looked up, but his eyes are on the twins. 

“Uncle Tony has an idea and we want to know what you guys think about it.” 

In retrospect, starting out with “Uncle Tony” was probably what cinched it.


	6. They Gave Their Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the time the event arrived, nearly everyone was a jumble of nerves. As such, from the moment of arrival, things took a turn for the anti-climatic.

When the office received the call from the Avengers Publicist, there was a moment of complete, stunned silence. The details were exchanged succinctly and efficiently, before contact information was traded and the call ended. It was only after, when they had the time to realize what they had been offered that the full weight of the responsibility settled; any and all initial celebratory instincts circling round to a steadying sense of lingering dread. Meetings upon meetings were called, entire rehauls often occurring overnight, only to be redrafted the following morning. Scheduling and staffing changes became so rampant the work nearly stalled all together and by the time the event arrived, nearly everyone was a jumble of nerves. 

As such, from the moment of arrival, things took a turn for the anti-climatic. Though no one was expecting Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes to come alone, there was a distinct lack of entourage feel to the group in attendance with them. Fellow Avengers Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes and Sam Wilson accompanied them, along with three agents who would not give names, regardless of prompting. The Colonel walked through the door first, followed immediately by the Captain, his daughter tucked against his side, tutu leaving sparkles against his corduroy jacket. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and her face was pressed into his shoulder, so that all anyone really saw were her now well recognized pigtails. She was a bit too stiff to be asleep, but not quite alert enough to be awake, though she made no noise and did not lift her head; the Captain smiling around the press of her against him in greeting. Wilson was next, followed by Barnes and their son. Barnes’ hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and he wore a pair of sunglasses. He walked casually, but with a weight of strength that likely had to do with the metallic arm he’d taken no measures to cover. Although the pink, sparkly bag - clearly their daughter’s - thrown over the same shoulder was a bit of a jar for anyone who took the moment to look closely. His son’s hand was tucked in his, and he seemed to be following along with a dazed quality, a Brooklyn Dodger’s cap slung low - worn and bowed, and much to everyone’s excitement extremely likely to be authentic - over his brow. He had a dark blue pack hanging over his shoulders that was somehow still snug enough not to slide from his body - no doubt through years of military experience - that was a perfect match for the one his father carried. The agents followed, along with the Avengers’ publicist and her assistant. 

They flowed down the hallway and into hair and makeup where Barnes and Rogers proved to be just as effective a team in parenting as they were in the field. They moved about each other without a word or recognizable signals. Settling into the space and acclimatizing their groggy twins to the new environment. While systematically efficient, there was a natural, relaxed feeling to the entire affair. Both men managing to be nurturing and affectionate while somehow maintaining their air of privacy. By the time they were done, the entire energy of the group at large had changed, nerves eased, leaving people far more relaxed and confident in their capabilities. 

Though there were four chairs, Rogers sat in one with his daughter in his lap. She was awake now, but sprawled across his chest like a tiny starfish. He smiled at the makeup artist, and asked if he wouldn’t mind if they did things at an angle, before making introductions. Barnes took the chair at the other end after setting their son in the seat beside him. He reached out a leg as his own team approached and gave the chair a bit of a twist and the boy’s eyes lit up in delight. The next hour resulted in a lot of chair spinning, Rogers apologizing profusely, Barnes laughing and making no such apologies and the twins waking fully. 

Once they were up, they were as energetic as any children and perhaps twice as resourceful. They wove around the set and their parents, under many sets of watchful eyes. Playing happily and eating snacks Rogers and Barnes had brought, despite the offer of the buffet available to them - though they were both equally grateful for the generosity every time it was pointed out to them. They adored the attention of a team of professionals, and took absolutely darling pictures, always mindful of direction and extremely well behaved. They minded their manners and while excitable, were likewise mindful of those working around them. When asked about their behavior, Sergeant Barnes had looked to them and responded, “It’s in their blood.”

Wilson was only slightly more helpful adding, “They’re army brats. They know what’s up.” 

The craft table went over well as surprises went. Barnes and Rogers enjoyed sharing some stories of Halloweens past, and crafts of days gone by. Their children had more fun watching their fathers hand made creations come to life while learning new things, than actively participating in the crafting themselves. While they had them at the table, they commenced with the interview portion with the twins. Barnes and Rogers were present, as were their fellow Avengers and their team of agents, but not a single person seemed interested in guiding the twins in answers. Nor did the twins once look to anyone for them. On occasion they would pause, sometimes tilt their head or bunch their nose or outright refuse to answer, and though no one from the Avengers team said a single word, everyone knew better than to push or lead and the interview moved along until there was nothing left to say. Even if everyone in the room had plenty of things they wanted to know. 

When the time came to interview Barnes and Rogers, they excused themselves from the table, kissing heads and ruffling hair and assuring their children they’d be within sight and return shortly. They moved to the couch and made themselves comfortable and seemed to invite question. They were open and honest, but clarified when necessary. They didn’t wish to have their words - or their childrens’- twisted and made it known. When the twins interrupted their interview, they drew them into their embrace and the interview tapered naturally. 

They left with well wishes, and a tidied space. Rogers carrying Jamie and Becca clinging to Barnes. Wilson had both childrens’ bags and Rhodes shook everyone’s hand on the way out. 

The staff was left with the exact opposite of the whirlwind they’d been expecting. Instead of a celebrity family in for a paycheck, it had felt like a day with family or good friends. And while they knew arguably little more than they had before in the grand scheme of things, there was an overall sense of peace and tranquility. A distinct quality of contentment that had found its way into their lives. A uniquely soft sort of happiness, the type a day of true relaxation - slow and freeing - could only be. 

“Somebody call the Tower _now_ ,” their Editor cried, jarring everyone from the dreamlike state. “Let’s see if we can get them for December while they’re still available!”


End file.
